THE MOUSE WAR: Memoir of P I Boots
by EstrangeloEdessa
Summary: Don't you laugh at him. He's seen more, been through more, than you ever have, and if he's afraid of mice, he has a very, VERY good reason...


OK, so you probably know part of my story already. You know, the whole thing with the jerkazoidal miller's son who threatened to eat me if I didn't help him, so I hooked him up with a princess, and he totally just abandoned me. Actually, I was pretty OK with that. Seriously, that guy was a _jerk_. So I figured he'd make a good prince. I mean, all princes are jerks, so he was perfect for the job! Anyway. It took a lot of action to get him there. I had to learn how to hunt—not actually as easy as you might think—and then I had to kill that ogre. It wasn't really all that difficult. I just tricked him to turn into a mouse, and after that, it was a simple matter of pounce and kill. It made me feel pretty confident about myself, so after the wedding and all that, I decided to join the army.

No, not the country's army, silly. Really, can't you just imagine me marching right up to the general or whatever and asking where to sign up? Wow. That would have taken a _lot_of forgetful dust. No, there was this Everafter army operating behind the backs of the humans at the time. You think this Scarlet Hand thing is the first organization to try and take over the world? Pssh. Naw. So that's what this army was for—to keep the world safe and the humans happily oblivious.

But there wasn't much going on just then. For weeks, all that happened was drilling, endless _training_ and _drilling_. Exciting, huh? Yeah, I know. I made a couple friends pretty soon, though. Gatto was the best buddy any cat could have. His sister, Kisa, was a raving beauty and the only girl in our company. I gotta admit this--by the end of the first week I was head over heels in love with her. I don't think she ever even noticed my existence, though. Man, you don't know _how _miserable _that_ made me. But overall, life was pretty darn good, if boring.

During this time, there were rumors about an uprising over in Oz. The Mouse Queen, apparently, had gotten a little feisty and decided that she needed even _more _room (apparently the 3.5 acres allotted to her weren't enough) to support her (not very) enormous colony. We didn't pay much attention, because duh, they were just rumors. Or so we thought. When I'd been in the army about six months, the general came and announced that all of us were to be dispatched to Oz right away. None of us got much sleep that night. We were all excited--it was our first real mission! Kisa snuck over from the woman's barrack--she had it all to herself, lucky cat--to chat with us men. I'm ashamed to admit that I acted really stupid while she was there, staring and stuttering and all that. Eventually, though, around midnight, we all settled down. Which meant we got exactly four hours of sleep before the sudden blare of a horn made us all jump right up and scramble to get ready.

I won't even try to describe the trip there. I'm not even allowed to, anyway, 'cause you're a human and I'm not allowed to spill Everafter secrets to you. So there. But even if I was, the trip was still way too long and way too weird and, quite frankly, very boring and not at all important. We ended up a few miles away from that deadly poppy field, and were ordered to march the rest of the way.

Let me tell you something. Cats--we're not great marchers. And this particular battalion was made up entirely of cats. So you can just imagine how well _that_ went! _And_ we were the first company to go, since, obviously, cats deal with mice mice better than anyone else. You know what that means? We were traveling along unpaved (we weren't allowed to go down that famous road, since it was way too conspicuous) farmland, avoiding rabid cows and insane horses and all that other stuff you find on crazy places like that. We weren't even allowed to stop and snack on any chickens! But despite the endless, murderous mutterings and the failed attempts at poaching, we got to the battlefield eventually.

Once there, we had to fan out as quickly as possible and lie in wait for the mice. At first it was fine. I hid with Gatto and Kisa in a trench a good distance away from the deadly poppy field, and we lay around and talked about all sorts of random stuff. At least, they did. I was kinda busy staring at Kisa. But soon the sun got really high up in the sky and started beating down on us mercilessly. Add that to our thick fur and the heavy army uniforms, and we were miserable! Plus all of us were starting to get cramped up from lying in one position the whole day. We had strict orders not to move, but you know what? Cats never follow orders. Harrumph.

I glanced around cautiously, but there sure wasn't any sign of a threat. "Hey," I whispered to my friends. "I'm gonna stand up and stretch, OK?"

"Don't," whispered Gatto furiously. I scoffed, stood up and stretched to my heart's content.

Nothing happened.

I settled down, smiled, and said, "See? I'm fine!"

And then... it started.

The first attack came out of nowhere. A shower of pebbles, tiny but impossibly sharp, came raining down on us from nowhere. One landed on my tail, and it hurt like crazy, I can tell you! But then I saw that Kisa had gotten one right in the forehead. I scrambled over, demanding to know if she was all right. The stone had left a small, bleeding cut, but she insisted she was fine. I had to smile. Brave, strong Kisa.

After a bit, the hail of stones ended and everything was quiet. We looked around, hardly breathing, waiting for something to happen. And it did. A wave of tiny brown and gray bodies came pouring out of the ground, racing for us. We barely had time to gasp before it was upon us.

No less than three mice attacked me at once, biting and scratching and tearing off clumps of my fur. I gave as good as I got, _better_ even, but I soon found myself overwhelmed. More and more jumped on me, and I felt helpless. I couldn't do this! I'd expected it to be _easy_! But the mice just kept on coming and coming, and they wouldn't stop. I had had no idea there were even this many mice in the _world_! All around me, I could hear the screeches of both cats and mice, but I could see nothing. Blood was in my eyes from a cut above my eyebrow, and I fought by feel and sound alone. I was hurt, scared, and confused. All my life I had always thought of mice as little fluffy cheeseburgers, but now, just in front of my eyes, an angry face loomed, and it was just as far from "cute" as you could get. I swear the thing was rabid.

I don't even want to describe the next few minutes. I tremble at the very _memory_. It was clear that we were outmatched. We kept getting pushed further and further back, towards the deadly poppy field, and hard as we fought, there were always more. Suddenly, I heard a scream from several yards away. It was Gatto. Desperately, I scrambled over to him, only to find him left for dead in a pool of blood. He groaned and turned one bleary eye on me. With what was left of his strength, he patted my arm and croaked, "You're a good cat, Boots. You stay alive, and you kill these guys, you hear?" He gasped suddenly.

There were tears in my eyes. I wiped them away and whispered, "Yes, Gatto." It was all I could say.

"And tell Kisa... tell her..." He tried to say something else, but all that came out was a faint bubbling sound, and he went limp. I could have stood there forever, I believe, head bowed in silent mourning, but of course a mouse would choose _then_, of all moments, to jump on me.

I whirled around, furious, and spitting with rage. My best friend had just died right in front of my eyes, and I was _not _going to let this ball of _fluff _kill me, too!

I fought with renewed vigor after that, stabbing and slashing and sending tiny bodies flying across the battlefield. I felt no wounds, just kept pressing on relentlessly. Every mouse I touched, I killed. Soon, those near me began to shrink back in fear, but there were always more, always slightly stupider ones, who leaped in front and tried to take me on. I wasted no time. I have no idea whether I killed them instantly or if their deaths were long and drawn out. I really didn't care. I just wanted each and every one of them dead. My friend was lying motionless two yards away from me, and he would never move again, and I was _angry_. I wanted these things to _die_.

And then, I heard a noise that chilled every drop of blood in my body. It was Kisa, and she was in pain. I fought my way over to her, dreading what I would find. All I could think was, _No, not Kisa, not Kisa too, please, please, please not Kisa, no.... _When I finally got to her, she was barely visible under a writhing mass of tiny mouse bodies. I tore and clawed at them, but I could do no good. I obtained countless wounds all over my body, but I had to keep going, because Gatto was already dead, and I couldn't let Kisa go, too. She fought beside me, struggling with every ounce of her strength. I fought blindly, crunching my teeth on every mouse I could find, desperate to save her. I don't know when I realized that she had stopped moving.

The mice, once they knew she was gone, wasted no time and ran off to attack other cats. No less than three remained, scrambling all over me, biting and clawing and clawing and biting, but I paid them no attention. I pressed my nose into Kisa's fur, and the tears, not far away since I had found Gatto, welled up again.

There are no words to describe how I felt just then. I think a part of me was dead, too, dead to the world and the battlefield and the spilled blood flooding the ground around me, dead to the tiny little tugs at my fur where the mice were and to the sticky wetness of my own blood flowing. I wasn't aware of anything, other than the simple fact that everything I loved was lying lifeless in front of me. I had not been able to save it.

Almost as if I were in a dream, I lifted my head. A wild, savage face filled my vision.

_SQUEAK!_

And then the world went black.

* * *

We lost that battle--we lost the war. The mice, once their victory was assured, retreated, leaving the battlefield littered with the motionless bodies of cats. Few, like me, were merely unconscious. The general, badly wounded himself, lifted me up, patted me on the back, and told me I was a lucky cat. I suppose I still am. But was that a good thing? Was it something to be proud of, that I was a lucky cat standing mere feet away from the bodies of my not-so-lucky friends?

The nightmares continued for months after we returned to the camp. None of them were quite the same, and some I couldn't even remember, but most ended with a sharp-toothed, wild-eyed face obscuring my vision just before everything went black. Soon, the face began to haunt me in daytime, too. It amazed me that no one else could see it--but then, they hadn't had nearly the experience I had.

Before long, I decided I couldn't stand it anymore. I marched up to the general and told him, "I'm resigning."

Surprisingly, he didn't give me a single argument. Just sighed, looked me in the eye, and said, "I suppose you are."

"Sorry, sir. Guess I'm just not the military type."

"No, Boots, and that's not a thing to be ashamed of. But, just out of curiosity... any plans for when you leave?"

I considered for a minute. I was smart, resourceful--if I do say so myself--and I was absolutely certain I would be able to make it, out in the world. And then I thought of the mice again, and shuddered. No. Smart and resourceful as I was, there was no way I could make my way in a world with _those _animals in it... and then I got an idea.

"I believe there are..." I hesitated, "_other _ways for me to help, sir."

"Are there?"

"Yes. And I will. Perhaps I won't be violent, sir, but I will." I wouldn't be violent, I knew that. I'd seen enough violence to last an eternity--exactly how long I had to live.

The general smiled. "Well, in that case, I wish you luck."

I left the army with a feeling of terror of anything small and fuzzy. I'd seen what they could do, and it was not pretty. But at the same time, I had a sense of purpose I hadn't had before. I knew what I was doing, I knew where I was going.

My name is Puss In Boots, and I'm helping the world, one dead mouse at a time.


End file.
